Do Not Go Gentle
by Something Illusory
Summary: -3x20 DE decade dance scene- "You're here." she breathed, slipping her hands around his neck and leaning in to press her cheek against the coolness of his jacket. "Not exactly dressed for occasion." he murmured.


**Author's Note: May veer off character personalities. I just really wanted to write a romantic scene between Damon and Elena and squeeze in a dance. While I may have thrown my common "realistic as possible" concept out of the window for this one-shot, I do hope you enjoy the DE romance anyway! Xo**

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Elena's eyes wandered around the dance, sighing heavily. Everyone looked so peaceful and happy that she almost felt guilty for being there in the first place. Decade dances usually ended in disaster at Mystic Falls. Why? Well, because of her, of course. She knew Klaus would be here falling all over Caroline and the very thought of seeing him made her feel nauseous.

Although her blond friend_ did_ look incredible. Majority of the females were dressed in traditional flapper clothing, some more sluttier than others. Her outfit was casual: a long, close-fitting dress with little accessories. She, herself, would blend in quite nicely though somehow Caroline had managed to make herself look like a 1920s goddess._ Maybe that will keep Klaus distracted,_ she thought optimistically.

And then somebody tapped her shoulder. She spun around quickly and locked eyes with the stranger...who, in fact, was no stranger at all. "Stefan." she said indifferently. He smiled at her, oblivious to the fact that she wasn't exactly expecting to see him. "You look..."

"I know. I..wasn't exactly about to go all out on this one." he admitted.

Elena smiled tiredly. "I like your tie."

"Do you like it enough to dance with me?" he offered, holding out his hand and waiting for her to take grasp of it. Before she could say anything, her eyes scanned the others surrounding them. Her chocolate orbs locked on each attendee, taking in their faces and hair. When she found nobody in particular, she nodded in the slightest. She slipped her fingers into his and found it oddly uncomfortable. Since when was Stefan such a stranger? Mind _and_ body?

They pushed their way through the numerous dancing partners, Elena raising her eyebrows ever so slightly at the way her classmates moved. _Only in Mystic Falls would the teenagers know how the 1920's generation danced,_ she thought ridiculously. Stefan pulled her close and smiled in the slightest before pushing her back out again. They twisted and turned and Elena actually found herself enjoying the movements. She enjoyed the feeling of _this; _him and her being happy together. It was almost sad, in a way, that they could not be like this all the time. She knew they would never be the same the moment Stefan denied her affections. She knew, deep in her soul, by the way he looked at her. By the way she watched him surrender to blood. By the way he chose his brother above all else and though it was an act of nobility she could not help but feel abandoned. And now she knew, too, by the way their skin did not ignite when they touched.

But most of all she knew because that ignition could only ever happen when she touched Damon.

Deep down, Stefan knew it as well.

"You're quite the dancer," she smirked. "The roaring 20s were your glory days, weren't they?"

"Hmm," he smiled. "Perhaps. It depends which part of the 20s you're referring to. I like to call them my ripper days."

Elena's heart sank deep into the pit of her chest. "Stefan," she whispered. "I..."

"Don't worry about it, Elena." he assured her, twirling her around and then bringing her back to him. "Are you enjoying the dance?"

"Of course."

"Mmm..maybe more if Damon was here, right?" he teased. Stefan's green eyes betrayed him; there was evident jealousy among them that did not go unnoticed by Elena.

"He's not coming." she said bluntly.

"And yet you still look for him."

"I'm not-" she began protesting but he cut her off quickly.

"I can tell when you're looking for someone, Elena. What's worse is that I know exactly who you're looking for."

She said nothing, only stared at him, horror-struck. Stefan was so hell bent on pointing out Damon and she's relationship that it was almost quite frightening. She had never encountered a jealous Stefan before, only knew what she had heard of his time with Katherine. It was true that he fought for her and it had torn he and his brother apart...but that couldn't be what was happening now, was it? With sudden regret she realized that yes, that's exactly what was happening. History was repeating itself. First as the doppelganger, now as the woman destroying the Salvatores'.

_They love each other. _She reminded herself.

Besides, why did Stefan care, anyway? Because he still loved her? It was clear that they would never be what they once were: together. There were too many obstacles, too many differences, and too many emotions that fought against them every day. And at the very end of it all she found herself wondering "Is he worth it?". Was Stefan truly worth the effort?

And then Damon...oh, Damon. Was _he_ worth it?

"There's someone here for you." Stefan murmured.

Elena snapped out of her thoughts and frowned, turning her head in the direction that Stefan was glaring. Elena stayed very still, eyes scanning the crowd. Then she saw him. He was an outcast - more than he was already so - and had an irritated look upon his face. Elena's heart fluttered unnaturally so. Beside her, she saw Stefan watch the emotions flicker across her face but she couldn't bring herself to peel her eyes off of Damon. Stefan, still holding her hand, led her over to the elder Salvatore.

"Hello, Damon."

Damon looked to Elena. "I need to talk to you."

She swallowed thickly. "Okay." And then, drastically, she let go of Stefan's hand and wandered toward Damon. She didn't leave his eyes until Stefan awkwardly broke the moment.

"I'll leave you two alone, then."

She never watched him go, only turned toward Damon and sighed in relief. Astonishingly he held out his hand to her and smiled. A dance invitation? Really? He wasn't even dressed up..she almost laughed out loud. Not like it truly mattered what he was wearing. The only thing that mattered was that he was here.

She slipped her hands around his neck and leaned in to press her cheek against the coolness of his jacket. Right on cue she breathed, "You're here."

"Not exactly dressed for occasion." he murmured.

"That's alright. I can't imagine the 20s being your time period. I.." she whispered, face flushing with rose. "I like you better like this, actually."

"You do?" he cocked an eyebrow, smirking his famous - and her favorite - Damon smirk.

She stayed very silent, simply enjoying the feel of his arms around her as they swayed to music that was rather slow. All night they had played music that certainly fit the 1920s jazz decade. What strange coincidence that they should play a slower song the moment Damon showed up. She pulled back to glance into his eyes. "I was waiting for you."

"You knew I wasn't coming." he accused suspiciously.

"I know." she shrugged. "But I waited anyway. It's weird because I had a feeling you'd show up. And you did. So look at that."

"Yeah, well." was all he said. His eyes scanned her outfit. "You look stunning, by the way. A true flapper."

"And you would know all about flappers, then?"

"I did live through the 20s." he reminded her, grinning like an idiot at his smart and witty remarks.

She nodded once before leaning her cheek against his jacket once more. "I know."

Elena imagined she looked rather odd there in his embrace. He, in his modern day getup, and she in her 1920s costume. He, the older and mysterious Salvatore, brother of the boy she was once dating. To her classmates' knowledge this looked perhaps innocent or slutty.. either way, Elena did not care what they thought.

"Do you realize we've made dancing a tradition?" he asked her suddenly.

"Mmm...you're right." she laughed, pulling her head back to smile at him. They moved together in sequence; like they had been dancing with each other all their lives. "So why did you need to talk to me?"

"I'll just tell you later." he replied.

"Tell me now."

"Actually it was just an excuse to dance with you." he smirked. "I don't really have anything to tell you."

"Damon!" she gasped. "You could of just asked me."

"You would have said yes?"

"I'll always say yes."

"Even while you were dancing with Stefan?" he raised an eyebrow, pulling her close, mouth inches from hers. His eyes smoldered her; she felt like she was going to melt into a 1920s puddle.

"Y-yes." she stammered.

He smiled and then moved quicker now, spinning her around and pulling a crazy move on her. She laughed, embracing him tightly. "Why didn't you dress up, then, if you knew you were coming?"

"I don't plan on staying long," he admitted.

Her smile shrank tremendously. "Oh," she sighed, locking her hands tightly around his neck now. "When are you going to leave?"

"After this dance, maybe." he said honestly.

Her brown eyes looked up at him innocently, her lips pursed in a small pout until she leaned in and whispered, "Just once more dance? For me."

"You know I'd never refuse that." he grinned.

She sighed contently and placed her head on his shoulder, closing her eyes. It was amazing how his presence had lifted the dance for her. It was incredible how he made her feel. How he could melt her with one look of his eyes. How he could set her skin on fire with one simple touch. How the smell of him intoxicated her. How he was still the most enchanting and sensational beings she had ever met. How close he was to her, how they were friends and somehow a little more than that...how she needed him like he belonged to her...

She knew then that he was _more than_ worth it.


End file.
